All About Chase
by Aspermoth
Summary: House's musings on the Australian intensivist. Chouse, or ChaseHouse, rated T just to be safe but pretty much smut free.


A/N: Well, this is actually an accident. I wanted to write something soon, I was failing and the words "It's all about Chase" popped into my head while I was getting dressed this morning. So I began to write something at school with a plan of writing something rated M to get rid of some of the excess dirty thoughts in my head. I didn't get very far, so I started again on the laptop and it turned into something unbearably cute, so I just couldn't add sex to it. So it ended up like this, sugary sweet and innocent. Oh well. Rated T just to be safe because it has _**BOY/BOY**_. Now don't say that I didn't warn you.

* * *

It's all about Chase. It always has been and it always will be. 

All about Chase.

Robert Chase.

He can still remember Chase's interview. It seems so long ago now, but it was only a year or two. Rowan Chase's excited phone call, recommending his son for House's team. Then the interview. _That_ had been funny. Chase had arrived late, soaking wet from the rain and with holes in the knees of his jeans. His expression dared him to ask. So he had carefully avoided the issue until the very last moment, then cracked out a pretty good line. Chase had grinned and reported that some jerk had tripped him in the parking lot with a cane. And guess what House had done earlier? Hilarious. Hadn't even recognised the kid. But had still managed to deck him before employing him.

Even now, it seems obvious that employing Chase was a good idea.

After all, he is extremely sweet eye-candy.

The month that he had had Chase on his own had been the best for years. Sure, they'd just sat around in the Diagnostics Medicine room most of the time, he drinking coffee and Chase doing crosswords _and_ drinking coffee. But it had been a comfortable silence. He admits that he had sometimes eyed Chase up over the rim of his coffee mug and wondered what it would be like to bed that pretty little ass. He was fine with his bisexual tendencies then; he just preferred to make scathing comments to do with the sexual nature of women. After all, there _is_ more to work with there.

But then Cameron had arrived. Pretty, hard-working Cameron who was completely obsessed with him. Another thing he has to thank Chase for is protecting him from Cameron. If it had been him and _Cameron_ alone for the first month, God only knows what might have happened. But Chase was there, protecting him with his blonde, beautiful presence.

Pretty little piece of ass that he is.

It had hurt a lot when Chase betrayed him. He has always seem something of himself in Chase, something of his pain and bitterness but with something a little sweeter mixed in. But then the betrayal. Why? Well, to save his job. It made sense and still does. But it didn't hurt any the less for it.

Which is why Chase had come to see him the after Cameron had returned.

To apologise.

That was before The Date with Cameron. Chase had heard about it, of course. Cameron should have just screamed it from the rooftops and saved time. But he had seemed hurt. Those beautiful, cyan eyes had been glittering just that little bit more than usual. Tears? Who knows? But Chase had definitely lost his temper, definitely yelled. Definitely kissed him.

_Kissed_ him.

Of course, it had progressed from there. As predicted, The Date had gone disastrously. Chase had popped round afterwards to ask after him, to apologise for the impromptu kiss, to ask if House felt the same, any combination of the above. And he had finally discovered what it was like to bed that pretty little Aussie ass.

It had been worth the wait.

House rolls over slowly in bed, partly to prevent jarring his leg and partly to avoid waking the young intensivist next to him. Chase is deeply asleep as he lies there with his cheek pillowed on his right palm, his breathing quiet and regular, his damp pink lips slightly parted. Almost irresistible. But House doesn't want to disturb his beautiful toyboy. He gently reaches out towards Chase to push a lock of dark blonde hair away from the younger man's face. The skin beneath his fingertips is soft, more like a girl's than a boy's. Chase stirs slightly, but doesn't wake, still curled into a ball, his free arm and thighs pressed against his chest.

House looks at him, pausing for a moment. The wait had been worth the relationship that has blossomed forth, tremulous and tender. The now three month old relationship that, as far as Chase knows, has been all about sex and coffee perks. House has not said once that he loves his little wombat. Although it's true. He just doesn't want to bare himself. Or, at least, not openly. But he can do it now. While Chase is lost in sleep.

Wincing slightly at the pain that movement brings, House shuffles awkwardly but (he hopes) gently towards Chase, reaching out in Chase's moments of oblivion so that he will not be revealed as vulnerable. He takes Chase's free hand in both of his, gently squeezing. Chase doesn't even stir this time. Becoming slightly bolder, House wriggles a little closer, his legs straight, his left arm sliding carefully under Chase's neck and his right arm reaching around Chase's body. He curled his hand up onto the back of Chase's head to press him towards his chest until the younger man's forehead touches his skin. House then rests his chin onto that silk-soft hair and runs his right hand gently down Chase's spine.

"You're so beautiful," House murmurs almost too softly to hear.

Chase shivers gently at the light touch sliding up and down his spine, his breath catching briefly in his throat before quickening, warm against House's chest.

"I... I... I... I love you," House stammers. "I don't want you just for sex. I've always cared."

He is baring his soul, but only because he is so sure that Chase is asleep. But then he feels a soft pair of lips press gently against his chest.

"I love you too," Chase whispers.


End file.
